Surrender
by Why so Sirius1236
Summary: "Spilled milk tears, I did this for you. Spilling over the idol. The black and the blue. The sweetest submission, drinking it in. The wine, the women, the bedroom hymns" Dark!Loki/Natasha/Clint Rated M for sexual references and language.


_Darkness pressed in on her, pure and utter darkness. It blinded her, suffocated her, filled her lungs before driving its way deep into what little was left of her heart. But despite this unpleasantness, it was not the feeling of death that had her attention. She let out a gasp as her surroundings came into focus with a sharp clarity… and it was no longer the darkness but the figure that was pressing into her that held her captive. _

_A dark head was dipping up and down between her thighs, ice cold hands bracing her unwilling thighs open as his tongue met the sensitized flesh. _

_She knew who it was, even before he pulled himself away from her center and slipped back up her body. She could only feel this much hatred for one man… because he was her enemy. In every way, shape, and form. He had insulted her, tried to take her world for his own, tried to take away…him. _

_Green eyes met Natasha's and she squeezed them shut as she struggled under his grasp. _

"_Has Clint ever been here before?" he whispered darkly, slipping a finger inside of her and meeting her gaze. In that moment, he wasn't just inside of her physically. He was probing her mind, her soul. Those abhorrent green eyes were staring at her with a knowledge that she wanted throw back in his arrogant face. It was like he was daring her to protest. Natasha bit down on her lower lip, keeping her gaze on the ceiling above her. She knew he heard the little traitorous sigh that came from her lips as he quickened his ministrations, and she cursed herself for it. "Answer me, Agent Romanoff," Loki whispered. _

_ Natasha closed her eyes… before they flew open once more as he rammed a third slender finger inside of her and hit the spot that no man had ever been able to gain a reaction from her with. _

_ She met Loki's gaze once more and the look in his gaze was absolutely shit-eating. He palmed her sex sharply, forcing her to look at him. "Has the hawk ever known of the feelings you harbor for him? Has he ever been-" at that she felt his tongue trail down the side of her throat- "Where I have found myself so graciously accepted right now?" Natasha closed her eyes again. "You will answer me," he hissed, his tone dark now as he pulled away. _

_ Instead of an answer, she simply shook her head in a brief no. _

_ A maniacal laugh slipped from Loki's lips as he went back to her throat. "How many men have been here, I wonder," Loki murmured idly. "The infamous Black Widow…" At that, sharp teeth came down to the left of the base of her throat and she let out a strangled cry. _

_ At that he turned her over abruptly, pinning her beneath him. "I know none of them have made you scream like I'm going to. None of them have ever been able to crack that pathetic little façade you have." _

_ "I'm not afraid of pain," Natasha said quickly, mainly in an attempt to release what she could of the moan that was building up in her chest. His long finger had started to circle her down below again and she could not deny what he did to her body. _

_ The laugh he gave turned her blood to ice in her veins. "Oh, Agent Romanoff… I can assure you, you will scream by the time tonight is over with… but it will not be from pain by my hand." _

_ And then she felt the familiar thrusting of his hips up and in as he took her. And to her own horror, she did scream. _

_ Only it wasn't because it hurt. _

_ It was because, deep down, she wanted it. _

_ And it felt right. _

oAoAoAo

Natasha woke up in a cold sweat. Her sheets were twisted around her arms and legs and despite what should have been a meager task of peeling them away and slipping out of bed, it took her hands far longer to untangle herself.

Once she freed herself from the confines of her bed sheets, she swung her legs over the edge, bare feet falling to rest on the cold metal floor of her quarters in the Helicarrier. Her pale cheeks were flushed with heat, and she quickly stripped out of the SHIELD issued sleeping sweater that all the agents wore.

She tossed the sweater to her bunk, running a hand through short red curls as she padded over to the small bathroom she shared with Agent Hill. She was suddenly quite grateful that the fellow SHIELD agent had taken leave for a week. There was no telling what kind of sounds escaped her lips when she dreamed of-

No. Loki was something that she hated. He was everything she hated.

She slipped a small hand into the shower, turning it to the coldest setting she could. She stripped out of the remainder of her sleep clothes, letting them fall to a pool of cotton on the floor.

The cold water eased the flush of her pale skin, and she let it cascade over the top of her head, closing her eyes and rubbing it into her face as the excess fell over her body.

It had been two months since New York. Two months that she had spent at the mercy of dreams that had no place in her thoughts. She had spent a month with Clint after the battle, regaining both of their wits and speaking with counselors that both of them knew would do little good. Fury had ordered it for all returning agents after New York, though, and she had followed through with it.

It had only been a week after she came back though, that he had started to interrupt her sleeping schedules.

It had been generic at first, in truth it could have been anyone doing those things to her in dreams. But after a third night of restlessness, that had been the first time she had seen his face... and it had been the first night he had made her come in her sleep.

She let out a groan as she turned to face the shower head, turning the heat up at this point as she woke up fully. She stayed there for another few minutes, just letting the hot water pound on her face. She would get out of the shower in a few minutes. She would put on the face that she always donned for SHIELD work. She would go see Barton like she always did and try not to feel anything like she always did.

The counselor she had spoken with had seemed to be worried about PTSD, but she and Clint had paid little head to something such as that. They had already been through hard stuff. Part of her wondered if this was it, but when she thought about it rationally, having sex with the enemy hardly seemed like a symptom of post-traumatic stress.

Loki was long gone, powerless in Asgard. She only had to get her brain together. There was no way he was a cause of the dreams.

And perhaps that was why her eyes went wide when she stepped from the shower, towel wrapped around her torso, and she saw her reflection looking back at her in the mirror.

Because a single love bite- to the left of the base of her throat- was smirking back at her.


End file.
